


Little Ball of Fur

by frickle_frackle



Series: The One With The Cat [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frickle_frackle/pseuds/frickle_frackle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles itches an needs a shower <strike>with Derek</strike></p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Ball of Fur

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning of this was written in a car while listening to 'Gay Pirates' by Cosmo Jarvis, (A.K.A. the single most unexpectedly sad song ever [seriously. I cried the first turn I watched the video]) on repeat and trying to stop my sisters from looking at my iPod screen.
> 
> This one was inspired by how I currently have a set of three pretty deep scratches on my left calf from where Tony clawed his way up my bare leg earlier and the sheer amount of tiny scratches covering both my hands and arms.
> 
> Autocorrect is my beta.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters (no matter how OOC I make them) do not belong to me, they belong to their respective owners. I make no profit from this, it is merely a product of boredom and/or lack of sleep.

So pixies turned out to be a lot different to how they were portrayed in various fairy tales and whatnot.

Different as in a hell of a lot less friendly and a hell of lot more carnivorous.

Which translated into tiny chunks being bitten out of several werwolves while Stiles was hung upside-down from a tree.

Well, at least they'd had the sense to gag him first.

******

The aftermath of the Night Of The Pixies was not quite as bad as a large tub of glitter exploding all over you and your living room, but it was damn close, because pixie dust itched. Not even like a little itch, it felt like having pepper up your nose and being physically unable to sneeze, or like a pretty bad cut (bad enough that you spend half an hour on the phone to a friend/parent panicking about whether or not you should go tio the ER, but after half an hour of panicking on the phone to someone with a tea towel pressed to it the bleeding stops and it doesn't look so bad so you just slap a band-aid over it and pray that it doesn't get infected) does about 5 or 6 days after you originally cut it.

Only it itched everywhere. 

And, conveniently, Stiles was the only one liberally coated in the evil stuff.

"Derek, please let go of my hands."

Derek tightened his grip around both of Stiles' wrists slightly. "I let them go once and you scratched your forearm so hard it drew blood."

"Derek, please," Stiles whined, "Please, I'm begging you."

It was killing Derek to see Stiles in pain like this. Even if Stiles didn't realise it, he was Pack, and Derek had this uncontrollable urge to protect the annoying teenager currently holding the majority of his attention.

Speaking of protecting Stiles, Derek looked down and focused on the hands he was holding still for a moment, noticing something different about them.

"Where the hell did you get these from?" Numerous scratches littered Stiles' hands and wrists.

"I have a very playful cat, I'm bound to get a scratch or two every now and then." Derek looked at Stiles incredulously.

"This isn't 'a scratch or two', your arms are covered."

"It's fine, I took Sourwolf to the vet earlier, he said she'll grow out of it eventually."

"Stiles, this isn't- wait, 'she'?"

"Ha, yeah, turns out Sourwolf isn't as manly as we thought."

"Maybe you should change her name to Susan and respect her life choices."

It was Stiles' turn to stare at Derek in shock.

"Did you just- You totally did. Oh my god you made a Doctor Who reference." Derek just smirked.

"No, you're not allowed to just spring something like that on me and then just go back to being silent and broody, I know your secret now."

"Actually, everyone in this car knows your secret now," Lydia called from the front seat.

A few minutes of peace followed Lydia's shout, peace that was only broken by them arriving at Stiles' house and Stiles struggling to break free of Derek's grasp and run to the nearest shower.

**Author's Note:**

> It's sad when you only realise how much potential a fic has for implications of shower sex after you've written it and not had them get together yet.
> 
> Sorry that the ending is terrible, I kind of mulled over it for about a week and gave up.
> 
> xoxo  
> ~HappyEmoness


End file.
